Pillar
by zarabithia
Summary: T'Pol and Trip reflect on unrequited love. COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first attempt at Enterprise fan fiction. Any type of Star Trek fiction, actually. In addition, although I've seen every episode of TOS, TNG, DS9 and VOY, I have only seen about three full episodes of Enterprise because the lovely city I live in does not have UPN. Darn Indiana. The episodes I did see gave quite the background for all the shippage I've read on FF.net. However, after reading one too many "and they lived happily ever after." I decided to give my own a whirl. Below is the result. As this is my first, and I have no beta, I would appreciate any constructive criticisms. To Hoshi lovers-this is entirely from T'Pol's point of view! I like Hoshi! Honest. And if T'Pol seems out of character.well, I never bought the "Vulcans don't have emotions" crap. Just watch TOS- we KNOW Spock and his dad have emotions-why else don't they speak for 18+ years? Oh, and one final warning-if you like every cloud with a silver lining, you probably don't want to read the story. It's pretty angsty. 


	2. T'Pol laments

**TITLE**:  Pillar

**PAIRINGS**: Tu/T'P, Tu/S  ********WARNING:  SERIOUS ANGST.********

**RATING**: eh…Pg-13.  Mostly because of Trip's POV

**ARCHIVE**:  If anyone wants it, they can have it.  

**DISCLAIMER**:  If I owned the Star Trek Universe, Capt. Kirk would still be alive, 7 of 9 would be dead, and T'Pol would wear appropriate Vulcan dress instead of a painted on catsuit.  No profits=no reason to sue.  Thanks to pookha_hare for drawing my attention to a continuity mistake.  Should be all fixed. 

**SPOILERS**:  Possibly for "Shockwave I and II," "Fusion," and "Breaking the Ice." 

***********************************

He loves her. 

I should not care.  I am a Vulcan and Vulcans do not feel love. 

No, that is a lie.  It is illogical to lie to myself.  I know that Vulcans do, in fact, feel love.  They simply try to control it.  As we do with all emotions.

Including hate. Unfortunately, I am feeling a deep course of hatred for her cruising through my veins.  

I shift uselessly in my place on the floor, where I have been trying unsuccessfully to meditate for the past three point two hours.   The six point eight times I have allowed myself to get close to reaching a total emotionless state, his face forces itself into my perspective.  

Commander.Tucker. _Trip_.

I reflect that I have never allowed myself to call him that-_'Trip_.' He has asked me to on several occasions.  "Really, T'Pol, we're friends.  Why'd you insist on callin' me Commander, even when we're off duty?"  He had even pleaded, once.  "Please call me 'Trip.' "

I had not.  

I feel yet another human emotion course through my body.  It is stronger than both the love and the hate.  While the previous emotions caused only mental anguish, this one hurts my mind and body.  Pain grips the inside of my chest, fleetingly.  

Humans call it regret.

Three human emotions in the course of three point four hours. If the Commander were here- If Trip were here, he would surely find the situation ironic.  Perhaps even enjoyable.  

I shift again.  That is irrational. Commander Tucker is my friend. He has said so.  A friend would not derive pleasure from another friend's discomfort.

Perhaps he is not truly my friend.  Although I cannot comprehend why the Commander would call me a friend, if he truly does not mean it, it is a possibility. Human friendship is a difficult concept to understand.  Vulcans do not have friends.  We have acquaintances and professional colleagues.  Not friends. To be a friend implies emotion.  At least that is my hypothesis based upon the information Commander Tucker had given me. Against my will, the memories of a  prior conversation come back to me.

_***_

_"I'm glad you're stayin' on the Enterprise, T'Pol."  _

_"Indeed?" _

_"Well, sure.  I mean, you're my friend, after all." _

_"Friendship is a difficult human emotion to grasp.  Vulcans do not have friendships."_

_"Ya don't?"_

_"No.  All Vulcan acquaintances are logical.  We form relationships based on mutual needs and benefits."_

_"Sounds pretty borin.', T'Pol." _

_"What then are the basis of these human friendships?" _

_"Well, a friend is someone you talk to, you're comfortable with.  Ya enjoy spendin' time with 'em. They're kinda like pillars on an old house- ya got pillars on Vulcan?"_

_"No.  However, I am familiar with that particular type of Earth architecture."_

_"Well, friends are like that.  Sometimes, they hold you up, and sometimes they lean on ya."_

_ "The friendship concept sounds very emotional."_

_"Indeed it is, T'Pol. Indeed it is."_

For the third time this evening, I re-arrange my body position.  The conversation had provoked an emotional response from me at the time.  I had attributed it, mistakenly, to the postponement of my engagement.  

I realize now that it was Commander Tucker who stirred those emotions. 

Again, an unwanted memory forces its way into my thoughts. On this occurrence, it is a memory of a conversation with  Ensign Hoshi Sato.  It took place shortly after the Ensign received a rejection from her advances towards Lieutenant Malcom Reed.  She had been in the Mess Hall, and her obvious disappointment was easy to detect.  Most human emotions are to Vulcans.  We work so diligently at suppressing them that it is easier for us to pick them up when others are not suppressing them.  My scientific curiosity took control of me and allowed Ensign Sato to express her discontent.  

_"He told me that I was behaving inappropriately," she had expressed, bitterly.  _

I only raised my eyebrow in response which elicited a sigh from Ensign Sato. "Take my advice, Sub-Commander.  Stay away from human men.  They're all bastards." 

I clasp my hands together and shake my head, trying in vain to force out the image I have of them together.  Ensign Sato.  Commander Tucker. 

My Commander Tucker. 

Despite Ensign Sato's words, she apparently does not find all men to be 'bastards.' Only four months ago did the Ensign approach Lieutenant Reed.  Today, Captain Archer asked for my opinion on how to deal with fraternization.  

_"Sexual relationships among the crew are quite logical, Captain," I had told him.  _

_"What do you mean?  You yourself have pointed out that sex among crew members is against regulations.  More than once." _

_"On both occasions, I was simply stating the known Starfleet protocol. It is a protocol that is flawed in its logic. Members of the opposite sex of many species mate after having spent time together. To expect a species-especially one as emotional as humans to go a prolonged period without mating even while in the company of a potential mate, is ridiculous and illogical."_

_"I suppose you're right. I guess what Hoshi and Trip are doing is perfectly normal." _

For the fourth time, I re-position my body weight and squeeze my hands even tighter together.  A feeling of slight satisfaction comes over me as I feel a small amount of blood trickle from my palm.  

"What Hoshi and Trip are doing is perfectly normal."  

Logically, yes.  I have said so myself.  Still, only four months ago, Ensign Sato was bemoaning Lieutenant Reed.  We have a word on Vulcan to describe such fickle women.  

I have not learned its human equivalent yet.

I realize that meditation is a useless endeavor.  I will not achieve my optimal meditative state tonight, nor will I likely sleep.  Walking to my desk, I pick up a copy of the old-Earth style book that lies there. _Friendship Stories and Quotes. _Commander Tucker gave it to me, shortly after our conversation.  "It'll help you understand friendship better," he had promised. 

I allow a slight frown to cross my face.  I have already read the book.  It has not allowed me to understand how Commander Tucker can proclaim to be my friend. . . and willingly cause me such discomfort.  Surely he must understand that hearing those words- _"What Hoshi and Trip are doing is perfectly normal"-_ would elicit a strong emotional response.  Even from a Vulcan.  How could I prevent from being emotional when my pillar has been stolen from me? Is it not logical that a structure would become unstable once its support has been removed? Indeed.

Perhaps Ensign Sato was correct.  Perhaps Commander Tucker was a liar and a "bastard," although I am certain that is not how she refers to him now.  Perhaps we were not friends.

No. Commander Tucker did not lie to me.  He has remained my friend.  My discomfort is due only to my desire to have more.  To have with Commander Tucker what he is having with Ensign Sato. 

My discomfort will no doubt compromise my ability to perform my duty.  How will I be able to stand on the bridge, next to the woman who has the freedom to call my commander "Trip?"  I will be spending my time on the bridge calculating what she calls him when they embrace.  Does she use his nickname, or does she call him Charles?  I would prefer if she called him Charles…I never passed on the opportunity to call him Charles.  

I did pass on the opportunity to call him Trip.  

As I will be unable to perform my duty, I will turn in my resignation to Captain Archer in the morning.  Then I will immediately return to Vulcan.  No doubt I shall have to under go the Kohlinar to purge my feelings-love, hate, regret-all troublesome human emotions. I will bond with a suitable, logical mate.  My Vulcan mate will be the antithesis of Commander Tucker.  When I look at my bondmate, I will see no trace of the passion that my Commander exudes.  With the passage of time, I shall forget him. 

I glance again at the book in my hands.  I will leave it behind.  If I am to forget Commander Tucker, I cannot take the book with me.  It would serve no purpose other than to remind me that _"What Hoshi and Trip are doing is perfectly normal." _

It would remind me of his humor, his enthusiasm, his passion…

I have had enough experience with human passion tonight.  

Knowing that sleep will not come and that I cannot make preparations to leave for another 6 point 3 hours, I take the book to my bed, and prepare to read it one last time. It is illogical to do so.  Much of my actions tonight have been illogical.  However, I realize this will be my last opportunity to hold the item in my hands. _And this is as close to holding Trip as I will ever get. _ As I realize the truthfulness of the last statement, I allowed two more expressions of human emotion to dampen my cheeks.  

----


	3. Trip dreams

**POTENTIAL SPOILERS: **"Shockwave, I and II," "Breaking the Ice," "Shuttlepod One," and "Fusion"

A/N:  I rewrote a couple pieces of this because the original had Trip having weird telepathic type dreams.  Since he's not a Betazoid, I deemed them inappropriate. And yes, I'm still working on the sequel…

*****

Hoshi Sato is a damn fine lookin' woman.  Any man could see that.  Hell, even Malcolm could, as much as he may have rejected her. I'm a lucky man to have gotten her.  If Reed had any sense in that stubborn British head of his, I wouldn't have.

And the sex is phenomenal. 

So, I have an incredible sexy woman in my bed, pleasing me like no woman ever has before. . . but the dreams continue anyway. And they aren't dreams about Hoshi.

Hoshi's in my bed now, lying next to me.  I sneak a peek at her features. She lies on her stomach, holding tightly to her pillow.  Despite our earlier actions, she is clad in a pink satin nightgown. She always re-dresses herself afterwards.  Her sleek black hair has fallen across her face, the only visible clue of our earlier bout of lust. 

Can't help but wonder what T'Pol's hair would look like.  If she'd ever let it get messed up.  If she'd let _me _mess it up.

Aw, hell.  

Lusting for Vulcans won't get me anywhere.  Especially not with T'Pol.

Who am I trying to kid?  It ain't just lust. If it was, I wouldn't be lying here with a perfectly good substitute and still thinkin' bout T'Pol.

Is it love?  Not yet . . . but I could let myself love her.  It'd be so easy.  

How about that?  Charles Tucker III could love a Vulcan.  If someone had told me that two years ago, I'd have  laughed in their face. 

It's not so funny anymore. 

It's all her fault, too.  Well, it certainly isn't mine.  I never set out to have feelings for someone that wouldn't share 'em.  But from that moment where she refused to shake my hand, I was hooked.  

In the beginnin', I thought it might be the male ego at work.  The whole ultimate challenge and what a man I'd be if I could get her to lose control.  Then I had to go and read her private message 'bout her wedding and it hit me that I'd be real sad if T'Pol left _The Enterprise.  _And not just cuz I hadn't got her into bed yet.  

Course, I was able to still shake it off at that point.  Say we were just friends, and I'd miss her as a friend.  Those damn Sulibans proved me wrong.  When I spoke to Malcolm and he said he couldn't see T'Pol . . . every bad possible reason came to mind and I was terrified. 

If Silik had been standing there, I would have  killed him myself. 

And that's when I knew.  There wasn't any use denying it.  I didn't just want T'Pol because she has a "nice bum," or to score the ultimate male prize.  I wanted her 'cuz every part of me cared for her.  

That's also when the dreams started.  They're always the same, too.  Always, T'Pol is laughing. Always, I almost get to her to tell her how I feel. Then I always lose her. I know that's how it would be if I ever had the guts to tell her how I feel. I'd lose the only part of T'Pol I actually have. Her friendship.

As much as I enjoy what we have together, it's the same relationship that nearly drives me crazy.  The longer I've known T'Pol, the more I want to know.  That's how normal relationships work, right? You get to know someone better and better, as time passes.  At first, I thought that's how T'Pol and me would be.  In the beginnin', it was.  She'd share a little piece of information here and there.  An occasion or two, I'd even get her to have a piece of pecan pie together. 

I can't help grinnin' when I think how she first described my favorite dessert. Not a logical choice of food, that pecan pie.  Still, after plenty of badgering, I managed to get her to concede  to try it.  And somewhere along the way, that damn pie became a symbol of our friendship. 

Too much of a symbol.  T'Pol was right.  Pecan pie can't sustain a man.  It taste great, it's sweet, but a real meal needs something more.  T'Pol's small concessions and exchanges of confidence are great-sweet as pure sugar-but they just leave me thirsty for more.  

And I don't understand why she won't.  I confide in her all the time.  I tell  her about my engineering shifts, when somethin' really great happens, when somethin' awful happens.  I tell her about my nieces and nephews back home.  Most of the time, she listens when we talk.  I think she cares, but who knows?  She's a Vulcan.  Maybe she's was  just listening to be polite, and doesn't really give a rat's behind how I feel.  

If that's what she's doin', I wish she'd tell me.  Just come on out and say, "Commander, I do not care to hear any more stories of a personal nature from you."  I'd take the hint.  

Hey, I've even backed off a little anyway.  I don't really know what's going on with her-she was a lot more forth comin' the first year we served together.  Lately, she's bolted down tighter than the warp core itself.  I was beginnin' to worry for a while that she had caught on to how I feel and was disgusted by the very thought of being so intimate with a smelly human.  

So, I eased off too.  Haven't asked her for pecan pie sharin' session lately.  Our exchanges have been restricted to being on duty or equally mundane tasks.  Least, that's what I've been trying to do.  I've not always been so successful.  I did get a new girlfriend.  

Right on cue, Hoshi stirs beside me, and unconsciously wraps an arm around my waist, snugglin' to get closer. Hoshi knows all about T'Pol, so it's not like I'm usin' her or anything.  Or at least, no more than she's usin' me.  

Yep, we're both serving as poor substitutes.  Pretty sad, huh?  

The physical is great.  But that's all it is.  And each time we use each other, a small part of me wonders how different T'Pol'd be. 

When those emotional Vulcans came to visit, I made sure to ask Kov all about Vulcan sex habits.  T'Pol had told us Vulcans only have sex once every seven years.  Kov had played around with that game too, but after he, Tolaris, and company left and I returned to my quarters, I found a present from Kov.  He'd left a PADD on which he'd written me a little thank you note.  

"Commander Tucker, you helped me to see my relationship with my father in an entirely different light.  To thank you, I'd like to pass on this advice:  pay no heed to the seven year myth.  The basis of this myth is no concern to you, but revolves around Vulcan males.  The females of our species can-and do-have sex whenever their partner and they desire  it. Just remember, Vulcans have twice the stamina of a human. Be prepared."

Be prepared? Are my feelings for T'Pol that obvious? Probably. No wonder she's been pullin' away from me lately.  

_Whenever they desire it._  The best thing Kov taught me is that in fact, Vulcans _do _feel.  They have emotions . . . they just try to control them. 

T'Pol does a hell of a job.  

Glancin' at the chronometer, I see that I only have about six more hours of sleep left.  I close my eyes, and wait for the oh, familiar dream.  My thoughts on that infuriatin' Vulcan can wait 'til tomorrow.  She's usually what I think about anyway. 

_***_

_I run in the direction of the laugh-I've never heard it before, but it sounds very familiar anyway.  _

_There she is-I can see her!  It's T'Pol, and she's standing on the edge of one of the most dangerous cliffs.  Laughin'. _

_I want to watch her laugh forever.  I want to watch her beautiful face be overthrown by that smile-a smile I long to see and can never see.  _

_"Trip!" she calls and waves with a reckless abandon she's never possessed.  My heart nearly leaps out of my chest. She's calling me Trip.  How I've longed for that.  I have to get to her . . . I have to hold her in my arms, to tell her how I feel. The faster I run, the more distant the laugh sounds.  Her voice drifts farther and farther away.  "Wait, T'Pol, wait! Come back!"  I yell.  "Come back!" _

_I begin to panic.  Why can't I see her, why can't I hear her? Suddenly, I see her standing atop an even higher cliff.  She's not laughin' anymore.  She's cryin' now. "T'Pol, what's the matter?"  She doesn't answer, she just cries harder.  I can't stand seein' her cry.  Not my strong, proud T'Pol.  I have to get to her.  She stands, and begins to walk to the edge of the cliff.  "T'Pol! Stop!" She looks up, looks at me, and jumps. _

***

"Trip, Trip, Trip! Wake Up!" I hear Hoshi's voice and it dawns on me that it was a dream. 

"I'm sorry, Hoshi, did I wake ya up?" I ask, tryin' to stop the poundin' in my chest.  

"I should think so! You were screaming for T'Pol to stop, and then you just started sobbing," Hoshi lowered her voice. "Trip, maybe you should just tell her how you feel." 

"I don't think so, Hoshi.  I'm sorry I woke ya.  'Nite." As I roll over, I  squeeze the pillow tightly.  No, I definitely can't tell her.  That's what I was trying to do in the dream, and that's why she jumped.  I want T'Pol.  I want her with every bone in my body.  But tellin' her ain't worth sacrificing our friendship for.  It ain't.  And I won't do it.  T'Pol's happy with things the way they are now. If she wasn't, she would have told me otherwise.  

And I can live with my misery, as long as she's happy. 

****

A/N:  T'Pol's point of view was a lot easier to write! This was pretty hard. Most likely not as good, either. Probably because I'm not a man. As usual, please R/R.  


End file.
